Life Goes On
by themasterwaifu
Summary: Sequel to The Future Ain't Looking Too Good Either. Things are never really 'normal' in the home of Gatewatch. But for good or ill, life goes on. Zane-centric fic for the most part. Updates as I write. Rated for language, violence, eventual smut, and just to be on the safe side.


Chapter 1: Stop Undermining Me

Weeks of work had piled up on his desk when Zane finally got back to Consortium HQ. It wasn't all from his stint in the hospital; he'd been horribly distracted by his parents fighting. Aelran had picked up a lot of slack, and he was grateful for it, but when it came down to actually doing the paperwork he found that he wasn't totally sure what everything meant. The last thing he wanted was to have his lover breathing down his neck while he was trying to work. Trying, of course, being the operative word, because every time he pulled a new document in front of him he ended up throwing it off the desk in frustration. There wasn't a single part of the floor that wasn't covered in papers by the time Aelran knocked on the door. Of course the knock came as such a shock that Zane's hand crashed down on his ink pot, smashing the glass bottle, spraying ink and blood all over his desk and paperwork.

"Boss we— Is everything okay in here?" Aelran asked, arching a brow at the mess.

"Yes, everything is perfectly fine," Zane muttered, grabbing a nearby rag and pressing it into his bleeding palm. He huffed out his breath and massaged away the pain. "What's going on?"

"The Tarkir's shipment just arrived and…" Aelran hesitated, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"Spit it out," Zane snapped, his frustration getting the better of him. Aelran jumped to attention at that, and Zane could only assume his eyes flashed something like they do when he's angry.

"One of the boxes is moving," he get out in a slightly terrified rush. "There are some noises coming from inside it. No one wants to go near it."

Zane groaned, throwing his head back and slumping over his desk. He'd had just about enough shit for one day. He threw the rag down on the ground, ignoring the blood still on his hand, and grabbed his leather jerkin from behind his chair. Pulling it on, he stormed down the hall without even noticing the black storm cloud that he'd illusioned above his head. It was a powerful image though, enough to have even the burliest and meanest of his thugs trying to become one with the walls as he passed.

The longer he went, the more his anger seemed to grow, until they finally got into the teleportation room. There were a few dozen crates and barrels all over the floor, effectively blocking everything else trying to come in, with the moving box right in the middle of them all. He could see, even from the doorway, that there were air holes bored into the box, but a magical darkness permeated that prevented anyone from looking in. He ignored it, though, and turned to the head operator.

"Manifest," he growled, his hand out expectantly. The clipboard was handed over with shaking hands and Zane glared at the man.

It only took a few minutes to sift through the shipment, men carrying the other crates out as Zane approved them. All too soon, they were left with the mysterious box, which had since stopped moving. Zane kneeled down next to it and motioned for Aelran to come next to him. His anger had long since dissipated, and now he looked at the box curiously and with all the wonder of a child.

"Can you get me a crowbar?" Zane asked, fingering the seal on the box. "Shouldn't be too hard to pry open…"

"Why not use your magic to pull the nails out?" Aelran asked, making a few men nearby perk up their ears. The look Zane shot him told him to stop, but something in him wanted to try and push the boundaries.

"There is something living in there," Zane said, as if it were obvious why he wasn't using magic. He sighed when all he got was a blank look. "You know I'm no good at telekinesis. What if I send the nails the wrong way and whatever's in there dies?"

"That's exactly why you need to practice," Aelran countered, arching a brow. He was acutely aware of eyes on them, and Zane's furious gaze was boring holes in him. "Why not look in there and see if it's anything worth killing at least?"

Zane grabbed Aelran's shoulder and pulled him close, whispering into his right hand's ear, "Just because we're sleeping together doesn't give you the right to undermine me."

"Do you want to stop sleeping together?"

"Get. Me. A. Crowbar."

Zane was saved from further embarrassment when a young man appeared at his side and presented him with the requested crowbar. He flashed Aelran a look, to which the blond just rolled his eyes. They both stood and Zane quickly worked to open the crate. As soon as the first crack was made, the magical darkness started to seep out like fog. It was unnerving, but he pressed on until he finally pulled the top off and set it aside.

 _Help us._

If it wasn't for the fact that most of his higher staff was watching, Zane would have jumped ten feet in the air and clung to the ceiling. It had been years since he'd involuntarily heard voices in his head and it shocked him more than he cared to admit. His head snapped around to look at his subordinates. None of them _looked_ like they'd begged for help. Besides, the voice had been small, fragile, and so pained that it pulled at something deep inside him. Unable to find a proper source, he pushed it to the back of his mind and looked inside the crate. When he did, his heart nearly melted.

Two small, grey pups lay in the bottom of the box, curled up with each other in a corner. They looked up weakly when Zane looked in, silver eyes squinting and blinking in the light. They looked emaciated and dehydrated, and Zane carefully picked one up. The poor thing whimpered in his arms as he pet it. The fur was so soft and smooth, but it was so light and small.

 _Please help us._

There was that voice again. Zane looked down at the pup in his arms. It looked back with lethargy, and also a fierce intelligence that made him realize it was the pups he was hearing in his head. He looked to the other one. The other still in the box tried to get up, but fell back on its haunches and looked at Zane so pathetically that he had to pick the other up as well. He could see the same intelligence, but far too much hunger and thirst to do anything more than cry. They both leaned into him and he made a decision right then and there.

"Lan," Zane said, placing a soft kiss on one furry head. "Contact the Tarkir and thank him for his most generous gift. And then send… Send Lyla to Zendikar. I'm going to give her a letter for the eyes of Nissa Revane only."

* * *

"Shit…"

…

"Goddamnit…"

…

"Oh for fuck's sake…"

Jace finally looked up from his paperwork, through the open door of his office and into the living room. He'd decide to work from home that day since Chandra was feeling sick. She'd been swearing like that on and off for a few hours. The first couple of hours, he'd marveled at the creativity of some of them, and listened intently as they got mundane but more frustrated, like she was so pissed off that she resorted back to normal swearing. Now he stood up, wandering into the living room to see Chandra tangled up in very thick yarn.

"Is everything okay in there?" he asked, gingerly stepping through the archway into yarn hell.

"I keep screwing this up," she muttered as she tried to untangle herself from the yarn. All that succeeded in doing was making the tangle even worse until she had her own arms pinned to her chest. She pouted and Jace came over to lend a hand as she started sniffling. "I just wanted a fluffy scarf…"

"Where did you even get all of this yarn?" he asked, seeing that even her legs and feet were tangled. It was actually an impressive sight.

"I was in the market yesterday and saw a big bin full of the stuff," she explained, the pout never leaving her lips once. "And I thought it would be nice to crotchet a blanket for the baby but I keep screwing it up and having to start over and I wasted a ton of yarn and now I'm tangled and I really need to pee."

"Well then in that case I'll stop making this worse," he joked as he pulled another bundle of yarn off her legs. "You'll be out in a jiff. Since when do you crochet?"

"Since I was a kid but balls of yarn tend to explode whenever I touch them," she said, waggling her fingers in a vague attempt to gesture at the multitude of yarn.

"I can see that."

It took a few more minutes of finagling to get her out, but as soon as the last piece of yarn was off, Chandra was up and running to the bathroom. Jace just shook his head and waved his hand, making the yarn bundle itself up nice and neat on the couch. He picked up the crotchet needle, curious, and noticed that it was nearly a big around as her arm. He didn't get to ponder it too much though, because the front door opened and distracted him.

"Hello?" he asked, coming into the foyer. He was shocked to see Nissa standing there, but smiled all the same. "Nissa! Long time no see! How's Zendikar been?"

"Recovering," she said with a smile, reciprocating his hug and kiss on the cheek. "How has everything been here?"

"Absolutely insane," he said with a chuckle, leading her into the living room. "But it's a story for another time. What brings you here?"

"Zane, actually," she said, handing him the letter. "Is he home?"

"Noooo…" Jace took the letter and opened it only to see a blank page. "That little shit… He's in Avaric actually. Hasn't been home in about a week."

"What's he doing in Avaric?" Nissa asked.

She didn't get an answer however, as a set of feet crashing down the stairs caught their attention. Zane's haggard face appeared just a second later, his hair wild like he'd been awake for a few days straight. He didn't say anything, just grabbed Nissa's hand and pulled her up the stairs as fast as he could. Jace was left in the living room gob smacked, wide eyed, and muttering something about needing a drink.

"I have no idea what to do," Zane spoke quickly as he led her up the stairs and into his room. "I've tried everything but they're not eating and barely drinking any water and I think they're sick!"

"Zane calm down," Nissa said calmly, putting a resting hand on his shoulder as he closed the door. "What's going on? Your letter wasn't exactly clear."

Looking for all the world like a worried mother hen, Zane gently pulled a basket out from under his desk. The pups were in there, curled up and sleeping, and just as sick looking as when Zane first laid eyes on them. They hadn't spoken to him a few days and it was making him nervous. Nissa was in the basket in a second looking over the pups. He hovered over the entire time, terrified, and she could feel it radiating off him. It didn't take her long to figure out what was wrong.

"Zane?" she asked, settling the pups in the basket and pulling a little tea towel over them.

"Yeah?" he asked, wringing his hands together.

"How did you get a hold of Malichor Wolves?" she asked, an edge to her voice that he couldn't quite place.

"Is that what they're called?" he asked, shrugging innocently. "They were a gift."

"Oh. So someone just gifted you two of the rarest creatures in creation?" she asked again, sarcasm dripping from her words. He scowled and she just sighed. "Where did they come from, Zane?"

"Someone gave them to me," he insisted, coming to sit next to the basket. He placed a hand on the smaller of the two and gave them a sad smile. "What do you mean 'rarest creatures in creation'?"

"The breed is supposed to be extinct is what I mean," she said calmly. "And now you have two males. Who gave them to you?"

"It's complicated," he muttered. "Are they going to be okay?"

"They need formula, they're far too young to eat solid food," she explained, getting up to get a piece of paper and a quill. "Here's the recipe. Zane… You're very fortunate. They are extraordinary animals. Malichor Wolves are said to be the most intelligent and easily trainable breed of canine. They're also loyal and love people. That's what lead to the extinction actually. They trusted people too much…"

"Is there anything in these tales about magic?" Zane asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No… Why?" Nissa asked in return, arching an eyebrow.

"No reason. I'll take good care of them, Nis, I promise," he said with a nod, picking up one of the pups and cradling him in his arms. "Isn't that right, Phobos? I'm gonna take good care of you and your brother."

"Phobos? You named them already?" Nissa asked with a grin.

"Yup. Phobos and Deimos, Greek gods of fear and terror. Twins as well. I thought it was appropriate," Zane said with a cheeky grin, playing with Phobos' paw. "Yeah, fear and terror for two big scary wolves. You boys are big scary wolves." Phobos just yawned with a high pitched squeak and lay his head on Zane's shoulder.

"Terrifying," Nissa agreed with a sarcastic chuckle.

* * *

"Berrim from the Infinite Consortium, my lord Tarkir."

The Tarkir grinned broadly as Zane walked in, not bothering to get his rather large self off of his nest of pillows. Instead he offered a jeweled hand to the boy, who eyed it suspiciously. Realizing that he wasn't going to abide by custom, the Tarkir put his hand down with a huff and motioned for a maid to bring Zane a glass. As the boy sat himself across the low table, a scantily clad woman came with a crystal goblet and filled it with a rich red wine. For the Tarkir, it was his first time meeting Zane, before having always gone through Aelran or another intermediary. What he didn't know was that most of those other intermediaries had been Zane in a different illusioned disguise. Not now, though. Now they would speak face to face.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Great Tarkir Malik," Zane started, fingering the glass but not bothering to take a drink. "I wanted to thank you in person for your generous gift."

"Ah so you did get the wolves," Malik said with a smile, though it was hidden behind his bushy handlebar moustache. "I'm so glad they survived the trip."

"As am I," Zane replied with a forced smile. "It would be a shame to let such a rare breed die."

"My thoughts exactly," Malik agreed. "Which is why I sent them to you. You seem a sensible lad with a good head on your shoulders. And now you have two male Malichor and I have two female." Zane just nodded, a knowing smile coming to his face. "I do hope that we'll be able to work out a… an arrangement for repopulating this great species. What do you say?"

Zane just kept up his forced smile and took a good look at the opulence of the room. Rich, colorful tapestries hung on every wall. Gold and jewels decorated everything in sight. Even the Tarkir was dressed head to toe in fine silks and shining jewelry. Flat out, Zane hated this man. He was the epitome of gluttony and gorged himself on sweet meats while his staff was starving. Technically it was Zane's staff, as he was the one who put Malik in power in the first place. The man was easily swayed and not nearly as devious as he thought he was, a perfect pawn for Zane to get a foothold on Rabaih. But the man had overstepped himself more than once, and now Zane had had enough.

"I say that you are sick," Zane said flatly, pushing the goblet away and standing up. "And I'm going to do what I should have done years ago." He snapped his fingers and guards rushed in. Before Malik even knew what was happening, he was shackled and bound and being hauled to his feet. "Before you go, where are those female pups? I have a friend who I know will take better care of them then you."

"Dear Berrim, can't we work this out like men?" Malik asked, sweat dripping from his brow as he looked at the men who were supposed to be loyal to him. "Whatever I've done to offend, please know I did not intend it."

"Yes I'm sure you didn't mean to embezzle from me, lie to me, steal from me, and starve and mistreat _my_ people," Zane said with a sigh. "Never try to fool a mind reader. Get him out of my sight."

"You'll regret this!" Malik cried as he was dragged out. "Mark my words! You need me!"

"No. I don't."

* * *

A couple of days later, Chandra found herself at war with the yarn yet again. Frustrated and unable to get a knot out that she herself created, she threw down the barely started blanket and stormed off to the kitchen. She raided the pantry for every salty snack she could find, which wasn't much. All she could locate was a half of a package of stale saltines. Figuring that was better than nothing, she poured herself a glass of milk and took her snack back to the couch. But there was something there she wasn't expecting to see.

Two little grey pups were playing in her yarn. Or rather one was fast asleep on a ball and the other had a yarn tail in its mouth and was trying to pull it out from under the other one. They were the most adorable little things she'd ever seen, just two balls of fluff, but she was still concerned about how they got there.

"Zane!" she called, knowing he was the only other person in the house at the time. When she didn't get a response, she gingerly walked to the bottom of the steps and screamed, "Zanithar!"

"What?!" came the aggravated reply a moment later. It took another second for Zane to appear at the top of the steps, half naked and a bit flushed, with his hair sticking up in every direction. There was some tell-tale redness around his neck and shoulders that was already starting to bruise.

"Are you alone up there?" she asked curiously, giving him a knowing glance.

"…No…?" he said carefully, running a hand through his hair and trying to smooth it out. He failed, and just made it even wilder.

"Well put a shirt on and come downstairs. There's something weird in the living room," she said with a huff, putting her hands on her hips and strolling back into said room.

The fur balls were now both curled up on the yarn (which was now magically free of knots) fast asleep. Carefully she picked one up, cradling the pup upside down so she could rub its tiny belly. They were barely any bigger than Zane when he was first born and it triggered her maternal instincts. She sat down slowly and rocked the little baby until Zane came down. He froze halfway through the arch and stared wide eyed at his mother.

"Ma… Please put him down," Zane said cautiously, tiptoeing over to his mother and his pups.

"Are these yours?" she asked, setting the one in her arms in her lap so she could lean down and pick up the other the same way. This one woke up a little, just enough to let out a squeaky little yawn, wiggle in her arms until he got comfortable, and fell back asleep.

"Yes," he replied, carefully picking up the one in Chandra's lap. "And they're kinda sick so please be careful."

"What's his name?" she asked, her excitement growing the longer she held the pup. The more she sat there, in fact, stroking the soft fur, the more she felt herself relaxing. She was a strong proponent of fluff therapy, but the way the stress melted off her was more akin to the magic of the Sisterhood than just a cute dog.

"That's Deimos," Zane said, reaching over to wiggle the pup's paw. He then wiggled the paw of the pup in his arms like he was waving. "And this is Phobos."

"And why did you get dogs?" she asked, placing a kiss on Deimos' snout.

It was an innocent enough question, but Zane still panicked. He knew that she and his father still didn't _really_ approve of his work with the consortium, and thus would be unhappy about how he came to own rare wolves. The longer the silence stretched on, the more panicked he got, until finally he blurted out, "They're my seeing eye dogs."

"They're what?" Chandra's head snapped to her son, disbelief spelled out clearly in the form of one perfectly groomed eyebrow arched nearly to her hairline.

Zane's 'flight' instinct was kicked into overdrive. Just two words had his completely rethinking lying to his mother. How many times had he been on the receiving end of her wrath when she discovered he'd lied to her? Of course, that was when he was a child and she tried to teach him that lying was wrong. One can see how well the lesson stuck.

"Seeing eye dogs," he insisted, nodding his head a little bit.

"You've been blind for 900 years," Chandra pointed out, making him gulp and nod again. "Why are you just getting seeing eye dogs now?"

"It was Aelran's idea," he said quickly, his 'flight' brain trying to shift responsibility to everyone else. "You know, like a homemaking thing or whatever. We had an argument and he tried to make it up to me."

"With puppies?"

"Yeah. But I don't know how to take care of things and they got a little sick. That's why Nissa came over the other day. And she told me that they're highly trainable and then he got the idea that I should train them to be seeing eye dogs. I mean what's the harm, right?" That last part wasn't a lie. Training them to help him get around _was_ Aelran's idea. He'd just completely forgotten it until that moment because he'd dismissed it as a stupid idea.

Chandra seemed satisfied with his answer, and he let the tension out of his shoulders a little bit. With her completely gaga over the wolves, she'd convince Jace to let them stay. That was one massive hurdle done with. Now the big problem…

How the hell is he supposed to train these things?!


End file.
